When The Illusion Broke
by tulip meadow
Summary: S&S AU; post-canon P&P. Willoughby's aunt was long dead when he met Marianne, so Marianne happily married him. But the happiness lasts until the money ends; after that, pregnant Marianne is abandoned by her husband. Fortunately, kind strangers - none other than Colonel Fitzwilliam and his wife - decide to help the now homeless and penniless lady.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1. The Stranger On The Road**

A young woman of no more than eighteen years of age was walking along a wide country road. Well, walking was a rather inadequate term, for she was plodding and staggering as if she was drunk. But the look in her large green eyes showed that she was perfectly aware of what was happening.

If her plumpish face wasn't red from crying and her red curls weren't so messy, she would have looked like the beauty she was. She was relatively well-dressed and carried a small sack with her. Tears were constantly flowing from her eyes, and she was whispering something unintelligible.

It was already dark, but the lady didn't seem to care about the coming night and her helplessness.

A rich carriage slowly approached her, and suddenly the woman shook off her stupor. She ran towards it and outstretched her hands:

"Help me! Oh, please, do help me!"

She sounded as if she wasn't caring for propriety or anything else anymore.

The carriage stopped, and a very plain sickly-looking brunette of about thirty years of age in a rich dark velvet dress stepped outside:

"Yes, madam, what do you need?"

The stranger begged:

"I need a shelter for several days, please, and writing materials and a bit of money to send a letter to Japan! I implore you, dear madam – my relations, when they arrive, will repay you…"

"Oh, I say!" with this exclamation a round-faced pleasant man in a military uniform jumped out of the carriage. "For goodness sake, ma'am – what's your name?"

"Mrs. Marianne Willoughby," the woman murmured, unsure of what would happen next.

"Mrs. Willoughby – it's obvious you need urgent assistance, you are obviously very ill. We will be most glad to give you accommodation for a while, won't we, Annie?" he looked at the brunette.

"Yes, of course, Richard, my dear," the latter, apparently his wife, nodded eagerly. Their lackey helped Marianne to get into the carriage, they got back inside as well, and it drove off.

"Whom do I have to thank so greatly?" Marianne exclaimed.

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam at your service, Mrs. Willoughby," the man smiled. "And this is my wife, Lady Anne de Bourgh Fitzwilliam."

"Pleased to meet you," Lady Anne bowed her head. Marianne guessed that was her favorite gesture; the rich lady was obviously used to obey other people.

"If you do not wish to tell us of your misfortunes, we won't persuade you to do it," the Colonel said generously. "But, being no medical man, I need to know what exactly is your illness, if you know it… For as soon as we get home I'll call a physician…"

"Oh!" Marianne cried. "It's not appropriate to talk of this to strangers, but I don't care anymore. I've been in a delicate condition for two months, and my husband separated himself from me!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam's jaw dropped a little, and his wife blanched a bit more than usual, but they didn't express their absolute shock and astonishment. The good-natured man did all his best to comfort Marianne, and Lady Anne weakly tried to console her as well, and the young woman was immensely touched. She had almost stopped believing that good fortune and kind people still exist.

For the rest of the way the carriage drove in silence. Marianne still thought of her luck to find someone to help her, but she couldn't help but feel a sting of envy as she observed the couple opposite her. Richard Fitzwilliam's eyes were usually fixed on Lady Anne, and he observed this pale miserable creature as though he was a peasant and she was a fairy princess. His eyes clearly spoke: "What have I done to deserve such a woman?"

John Willoughby had never looked at her like this, Marianne remembered bitterly. For sure, he admired her very much. Sang praises to her beauty. But when his wealthy aunt's heritage unexpectedly came to an end, he began to admire even more – whom? That pompous toad, Miss Jemima Grey! Marianne caught them practically _in bed _when she returned from a soiree earlier than she expected. So when there was no money, Marianne's "star-like eyes", "angelic face", "sweet voice of a nymph" (as Willoughby called them) were outshone by Miss Grey's fifty thousand pounds with which she paid for just the same compliments addressed to her.

John threw Marianne out that very evening. He didn't even know she was with child. She only had a chance to inform Miss Grey that when her money ended as well, John wouldn't be very faithful to her either. But that wasn't much of a revenge or a consolation.

Marianne had nowhere to go. Her sister Mrs. Elinor Ferrars was in Japan with her husband, Rev. Edward Ferrars who was a missionary in Tokyo, and with her mother. The Middletons, their distant relations, were kind to them before, but they wouldn't be, Marianne felt, very eager to receive a disgraced woman. The good-natured and foolish Mrs. Jennings, who cared naught for propriety, died a while ago, and her daughter Charlotte and her son-in-law moved away. Marianne and Elinor's snobbish stepbrother emigrated to Australia with his family.

So the poor woman had nobody of her acquaintances to turn to. Well… there _was_ another one. But he, the kind and caring Colonel Brandon, who was once their neighbor, was abroad as well. She didn't know where. Anyway, he used to be madly in love with her, despite the age gap of nearly twenty years. He left his home, Delaford, almost immediately after Marianne's wedding with John Willoughby. She was certain he wouldn't care for her now that she had broken his heart. It was her own fault that she was a ruined woman now…

Marianne felt tears welling in her eyes again as she remembered Colonel Brandon. He _did _look at her like Richard looked at Anne. Only Marianne ignored Brandon's attentions, for he seemed – oh, how foolish it all seemed now! – not romantic and young enough for her.

All of this, plus her condition, was too much for the young lady. Her head span, and she fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. Lady Catherine's Visit**

The carriage stopped in front of a large spectacular house. Colonel Fitzwilliam helped his wife to get out, and then assisted Marianne.

"Welcome to Birch Grove, our summer house, Mrs. Willoughby," he said. Despite being absorbed in her own thoughts, Marianne gaped at the amazing sight. The elegant baroque architecture, the lovely well-kept garden, the fountains…

"But, wait, Richard, weren't we going to call on my mother on our way?" Anne asked quietly. Her husband shook his head:

"No, you know what your mother is like. If she learns something, it equals all of Kent's high society learning it as well. We don't want to ruin all of Mrs. Willoughby's reputation."

"Of course you're right, dear," the brunette nodded. They led Marianne inside the house, and Colonel Fitzwilliam sent his valet for a doctor. Who knew how such a stress could affect Marianne's child?

Meanwhile, Marianne sat in the cozy guest room given to her and tried to compose a letter to Mom, Edward and Elinor. How was she to begin? My dear family, my husband left me… Dear Mom, Edward, Elinor, first – don't worry; second – I'm in a desperate state… What fiddlesticks! The thoughts of her beloved John's betrayal still occupied her mind.

Actually, their marriage was never what she had imagined it to be before they were wed. John drank a lot, danced with many other ladies at the balls. Sometimes he departed from home for many days and never said a word to her about where and why he went. But she forgave him – for a couple of Tennyson's poems or Shakespeare's sonnets read every and then, for the eloquent compliments, for the whole romantic aura that surrounded John Willoughby.

As time went on, her forgiveness and their relationship became more and more strained, and now that the light romance was shattered, Marianne discovered there was nothing that attracted her to her husband!

She wrote, the pen trembling in her fingers:

_Dear Mommy, Edward, and Elinor,_

_I hope you are all well and your journey is interesting and successful. But now, please, I beg you to return home! A most dreadful thing happened the other day. I caught John making love to another woman – the Jemima Grey I mentioned in one of my letters. She's surely rich, and that is her one and only attraction… And now that we have very little money, John loves her more than me… He pushed me out of his house, claiming that money right now matters more than the "boring foolish poetry". Yes, that's how he characterized his professed love for me!_

_I have practically no one here in England to turn to! Thankfully, kind people (a Col. Fitzwilliam and his wife, a Lady de Bourgh Fitzwilliam) gave me a temporary shelter, but I do not want to trouble them for a long time, especially since I'm a perfect stranger._

_But – oh, I'm in such a state – I forgot to say! I'm with child! It is such a wonderful event by itself, but I can't think of giving birth and raising the kid completely alone… I feel so young and silly._

_Please, please, come home, I can't bear all this!_

_Yours ever,_

_Marianne._

_P.S. Now nothing ties me to John. I wish to be called Miss Dashwood again. The name of Willoughby disgusts me._

She sealed the letter and told a maid to send it. Then she heard her hosts talking in a room next to hers.

"The poor woman! She's almost a child herself, isn't she? It must be all horrible for her. I sent for Dr. Talmen, but I feel we must do something else to help Mrs. Willoughby," that was Colonel Fitzwilliam talking. "What can you suggest, Annie?"

"Perhaps we should find some relations of hers," the lady's usual quiet, humble voice spoke.

"She told us all her relations are abroad – she's currently writing a letter to her sister, whose husband is a missionary in Japan no less."

"Well, her close friends, then. Does she have any?"

"As far as I can guess, no."

Marianne was about to go for a walk to avoid overhearing all this, when there came a knock on the door.

"Oh, my! Look out of the window – it's Aunt Catherine!" Richard groaned. "Did we actually promise her to call today?"

"No, dear – we decided it ourselves."

"Then what can she mean by paying us a visit?"

Marianne chuckled. It was easy to figure out that Aunt Catherine, despite apparently being Anne's mother, wasn't a favorite in the family.

There was the sound of a door slamming, several quiet greetings, and after a minute an angry woman's voice saying loudly in the hall:

"So I couldn't help but tell you. Can you _imagine_ what your cousin did?"

"What?" Fitzwilliam asked with irony.

"He was invited to London – to Buckingham Palace – and there he _introduced_ his wife to Prince Regent!" the guest cried.

"So what is so terrible to you, Mama?" Anne asked.

"Anne! Can't you see for yourself? That lowly country girl – now she's known in London, by Prince Regent, as our relation – oh, I can't bear the thought. She… she…"

"Is very well-behaving and clever," Richard Fitzwilliam finished. "Aunt, you truly should stop think that William's marriage to Elizabeth is a degradation."

"Oh, for you it isn't so?"

"Mama, Elizabeth is a very good lady," Anne interrupted.

"A good lady! With a Cheapside shopkeeper for an uncle… Oh, our family has, I think, forgotten about Honor and Duty. I only thank Heaven that you, Richard, married Anne after all. Although she was intended for William, your match would be approved by your deceased parents just as well."

Finally, Lady Anne was able to change the subject and asked her mother about the goings-on at Rosings and around it. Marianne by the time had closed her ears so that she couldn't hear the shrill voice of Lady Catherine, but then the mentioned name of Jemima Grey caught her ear.

"She was discovered to have a highly improper affair with a Mr. John Willoughby," Catherine said disdainfully. "Though Mr. Willoughby is the nephew of my late good acquaintance Lady Diana Allan, after her death he was known for most awful escapades. I heard a rumor of him seducing a _schoolgirl_ and leaving her pregnant. In fact, he is right now legally married and he supposedly threw his wife into the cold!"

"And what happens now?"

"Naturally, Hubert Grey is furious. They say he's going to fight Willoughby."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3. Bettina**

As Marianne heard it, she felt a sharp pain in her heart. The remains of the former warm feelings towards John arose at the thought of his possible death in the future. His lively eyes becoming glassy, his jovial, tender voice ceasing to speak… Though Marianne certainly didn't want to live by his side any longer, she felt somehow guilty at the thought of the upcoming duel. She knew that Jemima Grey's strict father, the Honorable Hubert Grey, was a very good swordsman. Unlike John.

But then she remember Lady Catherine's words. Apparently, the affair with Miss Grey was not the only and absolutely not the worst of John Willoughby's "escapades". He should be taught a lesson for ever. Maybe Mr. Grey would only defeat him without having to kill him, and then send him to the debtors' prison. Marianne knew only too well that their debts were simply enormous.

A torturous hour later, Lady Catherine left. As her elegant phaeton drove away, her daughter rushed to the guest room.

"Oh – Mrs. Willoughby, I'm sorry you had to listen to all this!"

"Please, call me Miss Dashwood," Marianne cringed. "I don't want that name anymore."

"Sorry, Miss Dashwood… But don't worry, everything will be fine. I am sure of it. Dr. Talmen will be here soon, by the way. He's a good man – a very kind and discreet one."

Lady Anne's face clouded with some painful memories, she sighed and walked away. Then Bettina, the maid that posted Marianne's letter, knocked on the door:

"Would you like a cup of tea or something, ma'am?"

"A cup of tea, Bettina, thank you," Marianne replied weakly. Soon the zealous girl came in, carrying a tray with a beautiful china teapot with golden ornaments and a matching cup. Marianne drank the tea gratefully. It had been a long time since she had anything to eat or drink.

"Lady Anne told me that Dr. Talmen is coming to see me," she said to the maid. "Do I need to go to the main sitting-room or stay here? I honestly can't bring myself to walk anywhere."

"Oh, no, ma'am, Dr. Talmen doesn't care about it," Bettina smiled. "He is our doctor as well as the Masters'. He never ever makes mistakes."

"I'm glad."

"And there is one thing: he never lies," the girl added and sighed:

"The Mistress had borne four babies, and all of them died in a few days. The latest one, a girl, Miss Georgiana Elizabeth, was all cheery and plump – we all told Mistress she'd live. But Dr. Talmen had one look at her and shook his head and said 'I'm very sorry, Lady Fitzwilliam'. And what do you think, ma'am? The baby went sick in the evening and died on the next day. The Mistress was so sad, she was! She said she'd better not bear babies rather than have them dead. And the Master cried like a child himself, he did."

The Fitzwilliams were very discreet indeed. Marianne understood they hadn't even told the servants about her condition. Bettina seemed a very nice, well-behaved and intelligent girl, especially for a maid. Had she known their guest was with child, she surely wouldn't have talked about the dead infants.

Marianne almost vomited and barely mustered the strength to gulp down her tea. She knew that she should have felt compassion for poor Lady Anne in the first place, but just cold fear filled her soul. Fear for her own child. What if her baby dies as well? And while Lady Anne has at least a loving husband, a somehow caring mother and a whole house of devoted servants to support, Marianne is totally alone…

"What is it, ma'am?" the observant maid asked.

"Can you keep a secret, Bettina? No one is supposed to know apart from the Master and the Mistress and Dr. Talmen. And you, I think, as well."

"Yes, ma'am, what is that I should know?"

"I'm expecting too," Marianne said, eyes downcast. Bettina burst into apologies:

"Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am! I honestly hadn't guessed! But I'm sure your child will be fine and live all right."

"Just, please, keep it to yourself. As soon as my family returns to England, I will move away from your house, and I don't want many people to be informed about my condition…"

"You can be sure of me, ma'am," Bettina said. "And your family's in Japan?"

Marianne noticed the curiosity in the girl's eyes and nodded:

"Yes, my brother-in-law Rev. Edward Ferrars is a missionary in Tokyo."

"Tokyo?"

"It's another name for Edo. Edward likes Tokyo better."

"Oh! The very capital of Japan! It must be so exciting!"

"I'll maybe tell you something about it later," Marianne said. Bettina happily clapped and carried the tea-tray away, though not before assuring Marianne again that the baby was going to be perfectly fine and healthy.

Without the maid's liveliness, the room seemed gloomy again. The thoughts of Willoughby's duel returned, and Marianne thought what would she do if Willoughby was killed. Probably she'd have to pay the debts – and where would they get money? Sir John Middleton might have helped, but – again – he wouldn't want to associate himself with a disgraced lady. No one would want it.

Marianne sat on the bed and cried and cried, until she thought her tears came to an end. The line from her favorite sonnet sprang in her mind. _Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove_.

"That's your favorite sonnet, John!" she whispered to her husband, as if he could hear her. "If you knew that money means more to you than my love, why have you married me? Oh, why wasn't I born sensible like Elinor? Maybe she was right, I'm too much obsessed with romance and rely on passionate feelings more gullibly than I should…"

Still, wasn't the love of Edward and Elinor just like in some romance novels? They fell in love – but he was long engaged because of a mistake from his early youth… And then, his vulgar, stupid bride changed her mind and went to the equally vulgar and stupid Robert, Edward's brother. Setting Edward free to marry Elinor. And both couples were now happy – each in their own way.

Why couldn't Marianne's life be like it?

The woman was raised from her miserable musings. Bettina came to the room again:

"Dr. Talmen has arrived, ma'am."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4. Bereaved**

Dr. Patrick Talmen was an elderly serious man. He spoke in short, sharp phrases and indeed was strictly honest. After he asked Marianne a few questions and had a look at her, he gave everyone a small smile:

"Nothing to worry about, ma'am. Everything is going on as it should, despite the stress. Bettina, please get me a piece of paper, and I will write some instructions. In the meantime, ma'am, save yourself from distress and trouble. I wouldn't recommend you to move anywhere."

"But as soon as my family returns from Japan, I was planning to return to them!" Marianne exclaimed. "Edward has a very cozy vicarage in… in Delaford, and I will be as fine in there as I'm here. I don't want to trouble the hosts too much."

"Well…" the doctor hesitated. "Of course, the feeling of home does matter too… Yet… All right, ma'am, you will consult me before moving away. Delaford is quite a distance."

"I will consult you," Marianne agreed.

From then on, she stayed in Birch Grove, with the Fitzwilliams. She was very contented living there. Although the atmosphere of quiet family happiness still made her envious, the hosts and the servants were all kindness to her and she became very friendly with them, especially with Lady Anne. It turned out that Anne, who looked so reserved and exhausted, was a romantic at heart just like Marianne.

"Oh, I love romantic poems and novels so much," she admitted one day. "Mama thought it was so stupid of me. She said romance is for foolish girls. But I still read all that."

Marianne sighed:

"Now I sometimes stop believing all these romantic stories I know."

"Continue believing!" Anne cried. "Don't be disappointed once and for the whole life!"

"I remember my sister Elinor telling me that I'll be often disappointed… She encouraged me to read more serious things. I did, but romances remain my favorite ones."

"I can't read serious books at all," the lady said ashamedly. "I feel very stupid because of it sometimes. Elizabeth – Cousin William's wife – is all for serious things. She's incredibly clever. I think you'd like to meet her some day."

"You flatter me, Lady Fitzwilliam," Marianne replied with sadness. "I'm not incredibly clever, to say the least."

"Don't be disappointed once and forever," Lady Anne smiled. "Your life will change for the better."

But it seemed it had been said a bit too soon. A week after Marianne came to the Fitzwilliams' place, Lady Catherine called on them again. She told them that the scandal centered around Miss Jemima Grey was over, at least for the large society: John Willoughby was killed by the Hon. Hubert Grey in an honest duel.

Luckily, when Marianne heard the news, Bettina was by her side. The shocked young woman cried out and fainted, and the maid immediately rushed for the medicines, a glass of cold water, and everything necessary.

Marianne could hardly bear it. The fond memories of her courtship, engagement and early marriage days haunted her again, and the shadow of her lively, passionate, and, as she had been sure back then, adoring husband came to her every night. Dr. Talmen and Father Abner, the priest from the nearby village, talked with her almost every day, and still it was very hard.

Of course, as to her reputation, it was no longer in jeopardy. She was just a widow with child – a woman with a tragedy in her life, yet nothing out of ordinary. But her soul was in a turmoil.

After many changed decisions, she attended Willoughby's funeral several days later. It was short and humble – as it would be of a man who almost dishonored a knight's granddaughter and did many other horrible things. Marianne and a young Lord Timothy Allan, the last surviving relation of the deceased, were the only people present.

No epitaph, no kind words – there was just a simple gravestone "Here lies Mr. John Willoughby, son of Mr. Nicholas Willoughby and the Hon. Griselda Allan, husband to Miss Marianne Dashwood. Died in 18— on June the 7th, being twenty-five years of age." Marianne laid two red carnations and her engagement ring on the grave, and Lord Allan brought a small wreath.

"Goodbye, John," Marianne whispered, softly caressing the stone. "I'm so sorry it turned out so. But I leave my marriage and my love by your grave's side."

Tears streamed down her cheeks. The memories flashed before her eyes, and she wept – not for her love and happiness, but for the memory of it.

Lord Allan, the true gentleman, said some words of condolence and walked her back to the carriages. Marianne heard people who came out of the church whispering sympathetically:

"Poor thing. She had buried her husband, and she's in a condition."

"What a tragedy! To be widowed at such a tender age!"

At least they didn't bring up the subject of Willoughby himself. Marianne wouldn't have borne it.

"Despite the tragic circumstance, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Willoughby," Lord Allan said to her. "If you want, come to my estate and have some tea with me and Miss Blaidy – a very genteel girl – the daughter of Baronet Blaidy."

The gleam in Lord Allan's eyes was such that Marianne caught the hint and smiled faintly:

"In other words, I'm invited to be a chaperone for you and that girl?"

Lord Allan flushed red. He wasn't used to such forwardness in public.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I don't feel well," Marianne said. "I wish you the best of happiness, sir – but I would better go to Birch Grove."

She felt dreadful indeed. The mixed emotions in her heart were such that she only wanted to lay down and sleep. Of course, the Fitzwilliams will comfort her – but they weren't Elinor and Mother – they didn't fully understand.

Marianne was even glad to find out upon her arrival that the hosts were away. Bettina was out too, so another maid, without speaking much, gave her tea and prepared her bed.

Since then, Marianne's condition worsened. She became worried and unstable, she often had attacks of violent, feverish paranoia. The envy of the Fitzwilliams' happiness many times burst in her soul suddenly, upon seeing some small detail of their life – Anne reading to her husband, Colonel Fitzwilliam enquiring about Anne's headache, the two of them sitting close on the sofa by the fireplace…

It became ten times worse when the cousin of the hosts, Fitzwilliam Darcy, came for a visit with his wife Elizabeth, their two children Charles and Margaret, and Elizabeth's sister Kitty Bennet. Marianne felt very out of place. The Fitzwilliams and the Darcys were talking, laughing, and she was lonely. The Darcys didn't even know about her drama: she was introduced to them as Mrs. Marianne Whyte, a newly widowed friend of Anne's.

In the following months, the Darcys visited Birch Grove very frequently. When they came, Marianne locked herself in her guest room and tried to read or sleep to get over the gloomy feeling of being the odd one. She only hoped that her letter would reach her family soon. Japan was so awfully far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5. News From Japan**

One day, during the fifth month of Marianne's pregnancy, the young woman was sitting in her room and quietly reading. There were few people in the house: Colonel and Lady Fitzwilliam were visiting the terrifying Aunt Catherine. Alone, Marianne felt so relaxed and restful and enjoyed the peace.

Suddenly, all that peace was disrupted by Bettina rushing inside her room:

"Ma'am! Ma'am! There's a letter from Japan addressed to you!"

Marianne jumped up, throwing the book away. Yes – it was an envelope with Edward's handwriting on it. She tore it open and snatched out the letter. The letter was written by Elinor.

_My poor, dear sister,_

_I can't say how distressed we were by your news. We all think you are absolutely justified in leaving Willoughby; especially since you're in a condition, it would be brutal for you to remain with such a man. Although it's hard to say so in such a terrible matter, I am very happy to have a little nephew or a niece in the future. I hope everything goes well with your baby!_

_Unfortunately, bad luck seems to be thrown upon us – at least for now. Though Edward and I are relatively fine, Mama is very, very ill. About five months ago she has caught some feverish disease, and it still returns to her from time to time. She is so sick she barely gets out of bed. There are good doctors here, and they say in her current state she won't survive traveling either by sea or by land. That is why we can't go to you until Mama is better – you understand, Marianne, you are at least in England, and Mama would be alone in a foreign country._

_Oh, goodness! It's so awful for me to deny you help. But I do hope it's not for long. As soon as Edward will be able to manage here alone – and I am sure that day is getting close – I will go to you myself. Mama is against a young lady traveling several thousand miles all by herself – but I'll manage. You know me, I will. I'm already planning my journey. Li and San (my Japanese friends, you remember me writing about them) are making arrangements for me to accompany a Kamchadal or Aleut merchant vessel, and then they promised to write to a Russian traveler they know, and he will take me to St.-Petersburg, where I'll surely board some our ship._

_I wish you would be all fine despite all this, Marianne! Don't be stressed too much, Mama's illness is by no means fatal! And I will soon return to you._

_Sorry for the confused letter. Edward, Margaret and Mama give the best wishes to you, as usual, dear. To Mama we didn't convey your news: the doctors are worried it might worsen her fever._

_I send to you a dried branch of sakura – it's a Japanese sort of cherry tree, the cherries are not very good, but the flowers are wonderful – and a porcelain figure of a princess. These figures are owned by every girl here._

_Your loving_

_Elinor._

Indeed, the envelope contained a branch with light rosy flowers and a black-haired white-faced porcelain doll dressed in rich crimson silk. But Marianne paid little attention to these gifts. She just gently placed them on the table and reread the letter again.

The helplessness and awkwardness of her position hit her fully. Her mother was very ill, and her family was forced to remain on the opposite end of the continent. She and her future child were forced to stay for she didn't know how long with the Fitzwilliams. Colonel Richard and Lady Anne by far were kind to her, but who knows how far their patience is stretched? Maybe they are already praying for her to leave. If they did, Marianne understood them perfectly. It's not easy to cope with a perfect stranger living in the house.

"Well, ma'am?" Bettina asked eagerly. "What's the news?"

"Nothing good," Marianne answered with tears in her eyes and briefly explained the situation to Bettina.

"Oh, how awful!" Bettina exclaimed. "But your sister must be very brave to travel all alone through the whole continent and across two seas!"

"Elinor is determined," the woman smiled faintly. "And she's amazingly sensible and witty. I won't be much surprised when she makes it – the journey she writes about. The question is: when will she be able to leave her husband and Mama?"

"If she says 'soon', soon it is!" Bettina cried. She looked positive. Marianne sighed: her maid was so much of a child. Even more than Marianne herself.

Marianne knew that Elinor, with all her honesty, will never write something like "I don't know when I am able to leave Edward's side; he still needs much help from me". No, Elinor realized the desperation Marianne was suffering through, so she certainly wrote at least some lies to cheer up her sister.

Later in the evening, the hosts returned. If they were annoyed by the news that their guest will be staying with them for an indefinite period, they hid it very well.

"Make yourself at home, Miss Dashwood," Richard said. "Don't worry. Birch Grove is a good house, it can fit fifty guests and still leave place for the hosts."

He laughed good-naturedly and suddenly remembered:

"Oh, and speaking of guests – Anne's thirty-second birthday is mere three weeks away. I hope it won't trouble you very much, Miss Dashwood – I intend to host a private ball in her honor."

"Goodness, of course I won't be troubled! I think I may even be present at it. It's always possible to come across some acquaintances of mine."

"A good idea," Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed. "It is now quite proper for you, I think, to go under your late husband's name – not under that of Mrs. Whyte."

"Yes, I think so too."

"If you change your mind about the ball, still don't worry. There weren't be many guests. Anne doesn't like large crowds."

Marianne was glad that she and Lady Anne agreed on that point.

"Who will be present at the ball?" she asked.

"Um… well, I'll certainly have to invite Aunt Catherine – then there are the Darcys and Mrs. Darcy's relatives, the Bennets. The neighboring landlords with families, of course. A few army friends of mine, again with their respective families."

Suddenly, Marianne's heart skipped a beat – though she couldn't tell whether it was fear, embarrassment or hope.

"If I may ask…" she uttered. "What are your army friends' names, Colonel?"

"Old General Calgrove, naturally – he was my commander. Then there are Jimmy Sawnington and Tony McBrane – Lieutenant-Colonel Sawnington and Colonel McBrane, my good old friends. Then maybe I will invite Commander Franklin Manch, he was never closely acquainted with me, but he's a brilliant fighter – practically saved Jimmy's life once. Then my young trainees, all of them had served under Wellington and were rightly praised," Fitzwilliam's face beamed with pride. "I'm ashamed to say I can't remember all their names at once."

"And no one else from the Army?" Marianne enquired.

"Er… no. Why, Miss Dashwood?"

"Never mind."

Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged and left to give orders about dinner.


End file.
